The First Quarter Quell
by Luke Winter
Summary: Valentina Waterose is a young woman living in the Capitol, just 25 years after the rebellion that shook the nation. She has everything a girl could want. Dresses, friends, beautiful food and a happy home. But that's not what she wants. She wants freedom, and there is only one way for her to get free of the Capitol. But is she brave enough to take that path?


The chatter seems to pierce my eardrums, like unnaturally high bird squawks. The rustle of silk, the clinking of glasses and the soft violin music fill my ears till they are over flowing. I need to get out. I need air.

I lift the train of my red taffeta gown, in an unladylike manner, and push through the crowd. Barely avoiding a collision with an Avox carrying a tray laden with glasses containing sweet cherry wine, I throw myself out the open doors onto a wide balcony, jutting out over the city below me. It's not really good enough, but to get to the roof would involve me being cast into the crowd again. I turn around and shut the doors behind me, blocking out the noise, but the light still pours through the glass. I place my hands on the stone railing, steadying myself. I feel the cold of the rock seep through the holes in my lace gloves.

My name is Valentina Waterose. I am 20 years old and live in the Capitol, Panem. I have lived my whole life being dressed in gorgeous materials, socialising with the elite of the country and drinking from scented wine glasses. And I am terribly unhappy.

When I was younger, and my father was alive, he took me out on the train to District 4. He was the escort, whose job it was to pick to Tributes for the infamous Hunger Games. It was not the done thing to take a child of the Capitol to a District, but my mother was ill, with the same sickness that brought my father to his end. Before the public reaping he took me down to the beach, where we sat for a good three hours, not talking, just listening and watching. I remember the wind in my hair, the waves crashing on the wet, hard sand, how it would sweep up onto the beach almost reaching my toes before running away like a shy child wanting to pet an animal, before knowing it is safe.

But now my father is dead and my mother an invalid. I am stuck surrounded by smiles and laughter, yet no real love. Every day I wake up, dress in beautiful clothes, smile to the right people, eat and drink too much before forcing myself to vomit, and then go to sleep.

As I stand on the balcony I feel a hand on my shoulder. I hadn't even heard the doors open I was so caught up in my thoughts.

"Val, President Goldtree is about to open the first envelope." I turn around and see my friend Justus. He is a year older than me, and has also lost a parent. His mother was a famous stylist, often asked to design the Tributes costumes for District 4, working alongside my father. That's how I met Justus at the tender age of 7.

I sigh inside. The envelope. The people of the Capitol have been waiting eagerly for these Games. When the Games were initiated 25 years ago, it was decreed that every quarter of a century there would be a twist, which was written down at the beginning, and been locked away. And now the first Quarter has passed, and the first envelope will be read on live television. My mother was overjoyed when we received the invitation to the party, which Goldtree named _The Quarter Quell Party_, a very unadventurous name but at least we know why we're here. My mother couldn't attend, so she insisted I go, simply to "keep up appearances" in her words.

I smile to Justus. "Lead the way Jus." I joke, knowing he hates that nickname.

He links his arm around mine, and leads me back through the doors, onto the dance floor, which has cleared as everyone tries to push into the auditorium at the same time. We wait behind, knowing we'll get bad seats, but it's better than being crushed by the crowd. We enter as the last people trickle through and veer off to the left, before an attendant, not an Avox, takes my arm.

"Miss Waterose, the President has a seat for you down the front." He says.

"Oh, is there room for Justus?" I inquire.

"No ma'am, I was asked to retrieve you and no one else."

It would be a suicide wish to refuse a request from Goldtree, so I wave a little goodbye to Justus and follow the attendant down the stairs.

The front row. Right in front of the podium amongst the biggest Hunger Games enthusiasts. This is Goldtree's idea of a joke. He knows that I am not fond of the city life, and often makes me take part in things I would much rather not. Thankfully he is unaware of my distaste for the Hunger Games as a whole, so I deal with the seating arrangement, rather than cause a fuss. The anthem starts to play out of hidden speakers, and we all rise while Goldtree makes his way onto the stage.

"Thank you, thank you. Please, take a seat, sit down." He tells us, while waving his arms for us to stop clapping. "Welcome, welcome. I hope everyone is having a good night?" Once again the crowd cheer and clap, only to be waved down again. "Now, as you all know tonight is a very, very exciting night. The first Quarter Quell, where we shall open the first envelope, hiding what marvellous twist this year's Hunger Games shall feature. I have it here, in my breast pocket, but first, I want us all to think, why we are here tonight. Not just the short term, think on a bigger scale. Why do we have to have a Quarter Quell? Why do we have to have a Hunger Games at all? Well, ladies and gentlemen, some of the most famous film directors and producers ever have joined together, and for the first time, created a short film, explaining why these games exist! Please, watch and enjoy, and don't forget to learn, because without this knowledge, the games have no purpose."

Goldtree backs away to the side as the crowd clap and cheer again. A white screen rolls down from the roof, and a picture is projected onto it. The speakers are so loud, they rattle wine glasses, but the crowd is so caught up, they notice nothing.

"War. Terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace. Hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes, and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost, and the traitors were defeated. We swore as a nation we would never see this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year the various Districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our purpose. This is how we safeguard our future."

As the final strands of the Anthem play and the video fades away to black, the crowd stand to their feet and clap and cheer like never before. The roar is ear-splitting. Roses and scarves and any accessory are thrown onto the stage as Goldtree makes his way back to the centre podium. It takes five minutes for Goldtree to calm everyone down and get them seated. While this happens I try my best to go along, but I honestly can't see the big deal. A video explaining why we have the games? My father had to do that anyway, just with less melodrama. Now I sit back down with the rest of the audience. Now is the moment. Goldtree pats his breast pocket and winks at the audience.

"Now, the part you've all been waiting for!" He cheers, receiving another round of applause. He reaches in his dinner jacket and pulls out an off-white envelope.

The crowd wait with bated breath.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he rips the top of the envelope open. Taking a few minutes to skim of what is written a smile forms on his lips.

"For the first Quarter Quell." He announces, his voice echoing over the silent crowd. "It has been decreed that each district will, in fact, forgo a public reaping, and instead two tributes shall be voted on by the population of the certain District."


End file.
